Fallen Angel
by iluvaqt
Summary: 6 Part One shot. Dean's brooding over his troubles when he stumbles onto an angel.  SPN Season 6 "Fight The Fairies",  SV Season 10 "Shield" mentions. Chlean friendship, Chlollie
1. Part 1

**Title:** Fallen Angel  
**Pairing:** Chlean friendship, Chlollie, Dean/Lisa  
**Summary**: Dean's brooding over his troubles when he stumbles onto an angel.  
**Rating: **PG-13**  
Setting: ** Season 6 "Fight The Fairies", Season 10 "Shield" mentions  
**Fandom:** SPN/Smallville  
**With thanks for the Beta**: **fickery**

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

- 8 -

Dean knows this is the last place he should be; the last time he'd actually been to one he'd been hoping to devirginize an angel. He grimaced at the thought. Cass was fine just the way he was. If fact, he was better off uncorrupted: he didn't know what he was missing. He shouldn't be here. He loves Lisa. Loves what she sees in him, loves that she doesn't want to change him, but even so, he managed to screw up a good thing by not being able to admit the real horrors of his job and his own weaknesses.

He's nursing his third drink and his brain's feeling suitably numb. He's certainly beginning to feel appropriately warm from all the alcohol he's consumed. Sam isn't Sam. Lisa's not answering or returning his calls, the world's gone supernatural crazy and Crowley's got them right where he wants them. Oh, and what's worse, looks like Sam doesn't really want his soul back know that he knows it comes with daily suffering and guilt.

Dean doesn't do alone well. He can manage fine if it means getting a job done, but long term alone isn't good for him. Probably why he managed to do 'normal' with a family and the 9-5 so well, or managed to fake it anyway.

"You look like you could use a little angel dust to cheer you up. Whatya say, cowboy?" The buxom redheaded madam is cozying up to his side.

Dean snorts, eying her disinterestedly. "Had my fill of angels, thanks."

Not deterred, she links her arm through his and pours him another scotch. "Something tells me my angel will make you forget all your troubles."

Putting a ten on the counter for the bartender's tip, he collects his keys. He decides he's leaving before she tries a different sales pitch on him.

"Wanda, take him out back and show him Angel."

Dean watches as the tall brunette pulls a face and whispers something harshly in Mama Redhead's ear.

"She needs to earn her keep," she hisses quietly to the brunette while smiling sweetly at Dean. "Come now, I know your type. You like them soft, blonde, gentle, but all fire underneath. You'll like Angel, and if you don't, I promise you, all you can drink on the house."

Dean didn't like her smile, and he didn't like what he'd overheard either. Most of the women here looked completely free-willed and of age, but it wasn't normal to be offered a girl out of sight. Something was off.

He followed the brunette who was tugging him in the direction of the back rooms. She told him to wait outside a second while she disappeared into a room, only to reappear almost immediately. "She doesn't say much, but she'll do whatever you want. Just don't ask questions."

Dean swallowed, staying outside the door which was slightly ajar. His instincts told him to get out of there but his curiosity was compelling him to reach for the handle and push the door open.

"Hello," she said quietly.

"Hi," he stammered, dumbstruck. He couldn't make his feet move. She was stunning. Not in the femme fatale or classic beauty kind of way, but she was all tiny and delicate, a picture of femininity, with a warm aura that seemed to radiate from within. She was enchanting. Pale, smooth, alabaster skin that looked like it was softer than satin. Pink, delicate, perfectly shaped lips, moist, almost begging to be kissed, her blonde hair framing her oval face, the edges falling around her pointed chin.

They had her tied into a firmly boned corset that pushed up her breasts and pronounced her cleavage, that had you unable to look anywhere but at those lush mounds. And the wispy thin petticoat she was in barely hid her legs at all, and he struggled to keep his brain from wondering if she even had any panties on underneath. If she stood up he'd find out; the material was practically semi-transparent.

He swallowed and coughed lightly, trying to get his uncooperative tongue to say something witty or charming. Anything but standing there like a dumb ogling mute. "What's your name?"

"Angel," she said, smiling slightly. The act transformed her whole face, intensifying the aura from before, the one that didn't fit with this place, and Dean felt his brain shut down again. He couldn't stop staring, but at least he could say this time that it was honestly because he was captivated by the way her smile made the corners of her eyes lift and sparkle, the mossy green depths watching him with interested and keen awareness.

"That's not your real name," he said with a laugh and a smile of his own.

"Are you going to tell me your real name?" she said, her eyes teasing, daring him.

"Dean," he said succinctly.

Lifting her hand, she reached out to him. Compelled to draw nearer, Dean took it and sat on the tapestry-covered daybed next to her while she tugged him closer. She hugged his arm and Dean felt shocks course through his body as she trailed her fingers lightly up and down his forearm. He felt like a school boy on his first date, awkward with a girl but loving every second she was close; terrified he'd ruin it by saying something or doing something stupid and she'd move away.

He covered her hand with his, stilling their movement. Unable to think of anything more suitable to say, he asked, "Why didn't I see you out there?"

The girl shrugged one bare shoulder slightly. "I'm new. Maybe Ann doesn't want me to mess up business."

Dean found it hard to believe she could mess anything up, least of all a guy paying to sleep with her, which reminded him of what the madam had said to the other girl, about Angel earning her keep. The first thing he'd done coming in was check her arms and legs for track marks. She looked drug-free, her eyes clear and her pupils responsive. Perhaps a little too responsive; they widened as she realized he was studying her closely. One hand escaped his and traveled down his arm and she squeezed his leg. It was a diversion.

"You remind me of someone," she whispered silkily, her face coloring.

Dean watched the blush travel down her neck to her breasts and felt his groin twitch in response. _Head in the game, Deano, something's off, remember?_ "Ah, you mentioned you were new. What made you pick here?"

Her hand stopped and she tensed. He watched her face and caught a flicker of fear before it was masked quickly.

"Ann found me. She's taking care of me. I don't have any money so I guess... well, there are worse things, right?"

Dean ground his jaw tightly. It was worse than he thought. This girl was probably a runaway- abusive home, husband, boyfriend, whatever, take your pick, and this woman was taking advantage of her vulnerable state of mind and desperate circumstances. "You don't have to do this. I know a guy. He can get you into a shelter, help you find a job." Dean took both her hands to stop them from where they'd been traveling up his inner thigh.

The girl snatched her hands away. "No one can help me," she hissed angrily. She got up and started to pace, beginning to shake as she did so. "I'm... I'm fine, I don't need your pity."

Dean glanced at the open doorway, and hastily shut the door. If someone hadn't already noticed the room wasn't being occupied by regular activities they would soon enough, and he'd be no closer to discovering anything about this mystery girl.

"Just tell me your name. Maybe there's someone out there looking for you."

The girl stopped pacing and he saw her glance at her left wrist briefly. Encircled there was a pretty looking bracelet, and hanging from it were two small charms - a cupid's bow and arrow and a tiny spoon.

"I don't know my name."

Dean gulped. The facts were stacking up so much worse than he thought. She had amnesia. This girl was being pawned off and she didn't even know who she was. Shrugging out of his jacket, he put it around her shoulders. "You don't know me from Adam, but I won't lie to you and I certainly won't make you do anything you don't want to. You shouldn't have to do this. Come with me, I can get you out of here and I can try to help you remember what that bracelet means. We could take pictures of it, post it on the web. My brother's a geek, he'll have a few ideas of how we can figure out how to get it out there. It's gotta mean something to someone else too, right?"

The girl nodded and pulled her arms into his sleeves hugging herself tightly. "Thank you, Dean."

"Don't thank me yet," he said heaving a sigh. "We've still gotta sneak past the pimps and Madam "I'm gonna fall over because these are so big, or I could crack your head open like a melon with them.'"

The girl shuddered but smiled that smile that lit the whole room, giving him the confidence he didn't know he was lacking in that moment.

Dean snickered. "Yeah, I watched this chick on YouTube, Busty somethin', still havin' nightmares. Never was anti-boob job before, but it's natural all the way now." He reached back and took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Stick close. You trust me?"

At her nod, he felt a swell of pride. She was taking a big leap of faith trusting a stranger like him, but he wasn't going to misplace that trust and he was going to do his damnedest to help her. He didn't know what it was, but something about her called to him. Called to this instinctive protective streak he had for those who'd been mistreated and were too vulnerable to protect themselves.

- 8 -

He got her out, with the pimps hot on their tail and Ann screaming obscenities behind them. By the time the town was nothing but faint lights in the distance, she'd stopped shaking and flashed him a nervous smile.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice still slightly out of breath.

Dean shrugged. "Anywhere? There anywhere in particular you've always wanted to go?"

"I don't know..." She closed her eyes, her voice fading as she turned to stare out the window at the clear night sky and Douglas furs streaking by. "Have you heard of Star City?"

Dean grinned. "I've road-tripped across the States more times than some do in a life-time and I can honestly say I've never been to that sunshine city of lights. Does it mean something to you?"

Chloe gazed outside the window again at the billions of bright stars in the sky and let out a slow breath. "It just sounds pretty."

.

* * *

This fic was inspired by the manip by mabjones

http : / i13. photobucket. com/albums/a264/micki34/Chloe _ bymabjones. jpg (remove all the spaces)


	2. Part 2

**Author notes:** Thanks for the interest and the favorite adds, midnightquiver, Artemida and readingdeamon. SyLaR'sMEmoRyGuRL, glad you're enjoying it so far. Jade121, Dean's a naturally protective person, that's what makes him so easily likeable. Thanks for sending feedback. :)

- 8 -

In the four days it took to travel from Jetmore, Kansas with stopovers in Albuquerque, Flagstaff and Bakersfield along the way, he'd learned that she was a very easygoing person who loved all kinds of music, from whatever was on the radio-pop, rock, country-to his big hair heavy metal classics. She didn't bat an eye at bags of greasy takeout and she didn't complain when they'd drive for hours on end with nothing but highway and endless stretches of black on green.

She'd offered to drive, but from her smirk he could tell she was only teasing and saying it out of courtesy. He loved his baby, and as much as he thought Angel was cute, he barely let Sam drive his Impala. He expected a dig about it, but she just smiled indulgently at the way he circled the car when they pulled up for the night. When he got tired, they stopped at the nearest motel. The first night she slept so quietly that he'd stayed up all night worried he'd misread her condition, that maybe she was on some other drug he didn't know about and she'd died in her sleep. Even with him periodically hovering, holding a feather under her nose to check for expiration, she hadn't stirred. So much for survival instincts.

When she'd woken up, wide-eyed, beaming like a fresh ray of sunshine while he'd been crabby and sleep-deprived the next morning, he'd almost wanted to smother her for real.

They'd showered, had breakfast at a local diner and hit the road again. After the fairy incident, Dean told Sam to take a break. For the past year all he'd been doing was hunting and all Dean had been doing was looking over his shoulder and wishing that he'd found a way to save his brother. Both of them had things they needed to work out, and Dean certainly wasn't keen on the idea of working for Crowley. A time out would do them both some good. He'd texted Sammy about his mystery girl Angel and sent a picture asking him to look into the FBI's Missing Persons database. See if anyone matched her profile.

In the meantime he was enjoying the relatively scenic, leisurely drive across the states to California, home of sun, sea, surf and beach babes.

He glanced over at her from the corner of his eye, with the window rolled down, the afternoon breeze tearing through her hair. It was too easy to picture her in a bikini and he shifted uncomfortably. If he was single he would have hit on her by now. She was pretty, sweet and just the kind of girl he liked to picture himself with. Fun, easy to please, good to his baby. She dusted her shoes off every time she got into the car, and she never touched his radio. She wasn't really chatty either, which felt strange to him because he often caught himself wondering what was going on in that head of hers.

Half an hour later she dozed off. Her arm slid off the back rest and thumped lightly on the seat between them. He picked up her wrist and put it lightly in her lap. She whimpered in her sleep.

His heart skipped a beat and he nearly jerked the car to a stop. His pulse beating a little faster, he pulled off the road and put the Impala in park. He didn't probe her with questions about her past considering she didn't remember much of anything, although they'd quickly learned two of her vices: coffee and good pie.

Reaching over, he lightly turned her arm, his fingers brushing her wrist.

Again she whimpered, this time a small sob bubbling from her throat. A tear slid down her cheek and he swallow tightly, feeling guilty that he was intentionally causing her distress. He looked down at her arm. There were freckles dotting her skin that he hadn't noticed in the poor lighting of the brothel. He'd bought her a few clothes: a pair of black shorts, a t-shirt and a hoodie, and a sun-dress, along with several pairs of underwear. She was wearing the dress today, so her shapely, short legs and slender arms were on full display. On her wrist under the bracelet were fine scars. Slash marks, signs of a suicide attempt. His gut twisted. He found it hard to imagine her as someone who would give up, but without knowing her past he had no idea what hardships might have driven her to that point.

He squeezed her hand comfortingly and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her face. "You're safe," he said thickly. "No one's going to hurt you."

Chloe shivered in her sleep, almost leaning into his touch. The marring softened and she breathed more evenly. "Love you, Lo," she whispered softly.

Dean stilled. It was the first name he'd ever heard her say, besides his own. "Lo" it sounded like a nickname. Her voice sounded small, childlike. Was it her brother's name, a loved sibling or a protector? The way she curled closer made him think this person she was dreaming of made her feel sheltered, at ease.

When she woke he didn't mention the nightmare, but he asked about the name. She'd shrugged, saying it didn't jog any memories.

They arrived in Star City the following day, just as twilight was approaching. He felt cramped and tired. Chloe had slept the last four hours so she was energized, full of curiosity at the glitzy city full of skyscrapers and bustling nightlife.

He groaned, knowing they wouldn't be turning in early tonight. "Where to first?"

Chloe rubbed her hands together then, pushed her hands into her shorts with a shrug. "I don't know. Are you hungry?"

"Are you? I could go for some pie," he said with a laugh and a wink.

Chloe chuckled. "If I didn't know better, Dean Winchester, I'd think you were trying to fatten me up, and what kind of guy would want to do that?"

Dean snorted. "Fat where? And you're a rare find, Angel. Not many girls will admit to loving pie as much as you do. Which I find honestly refreshing, and very attractive by the way."

"If I didn't know you had a girlfriend, I think I would have run by now with how many times a day you compliment me."

Dean winked. "I only speak the truth. And don't get snarky, but you strike me as the type of girl that doesn't get complimented very much. Not because you're not beautiful but because you don't trust anyone with the real you."

Chloe felt a blush heat her cheeks and felt her stomach flutter. His words felt a little too true for someone she'd only just met, and for not really knowing herself. Part of her argued though that she wasn't a different person, she was just whoever she was without her memories. Memories might make up a large part of who she was, but instinctively, she knew she was the same. She knew Dean was right. She protected herself from others, she was careful to guard her feelings. And while she trusted Dean to keep her safe, to not hurt her physically, she didn't confide in him that some of her memories had returned. Particularly dark ones that played out in her dreams. A man whose face she couldn't quite make out while he tortured her until she writhed, screaming and crying. The worst thing was that he never actually drew blood. He was gentle, barely touching her, his fingertips at odds with the cruel sneer of his lips. He traced every scar he could find and he knew where to find them all. Her collarbone, her wrists, her abdomen, the tiny one covered by her fringe along her hairline. He did it over and over till she felt a fire under her skin. He called her Watchtower and wanted names of people she worked with. She wouldn't give them, couldn't give them up. What had once seemed so vital she keep secret she was now desperate to remember, just so she had a lead on who she might be.

Dean watched the expressions play over her face. He knew she was remembering a little more every day but he never pressed her. In a way he was afraid that she would remember too much, that she'd remember why she'd lost her memory in the first place. Why Ann had found her wondering along the side of the road, barefoot and on the verge of hypothermia. He knew because her eyes no longer had the same bright sparkle of untempered curiosity and innocence. He didn't know if it was the hand of God that lead him to the brothel that night, or even if it might have been Castiel's leading him, but he was thankful for Angel's sake that he'd found her before she'd had to perform as payment for the inhospitable care Ann had given her.

Dean couldn't fault her for her naivety though. From what she'd said, she'd been barely aware of her surroundings at the time and had spent two days with a high fever before she could speak enough to beg for food and water. When she'd realized her predicament she'd already felt indebted to the woman, and escape had seemed impossible.

"Like I told you before, never been to Star City, so whatever looks good to you, we'll head over."

Chloe linked her arm through his and Dean put his hands into his jacket pockets, smiling at her indulgently. High above the streets, from his perch on the building, Oliver stared slack-jawed as Chloe walked nonchalantly into the nearest Taco Bell. His heart plummeted.

He'd found Flagg and the man had scoffed in his face, taunting him that Chloe had killed herself with cyanide after trading herself for his freedom. He couldn't set one foot into Watchtower without feeling the weight of that guilt. He couldn't look at Lois or Clark and think of anything worthwhile to say. Just being in Metropolis made his head spin; he had to get out. So he'd left.

She wasn't dead, he'd argued to himself. He would feel it. She was so full of life, so vibrant, always moving, always busy. She couldn't be dead. He wouldn't believe it, yet he couldn't stay either. Now here she was, in his home city.

She looked different; carefree almost, her hair unkempt, windswept. She was wearing cute black shorts and a hoodie, items he knew for a fact weren't from her wardrobe back home. Who was this guy? He'd never seen him before. Just as the man held the door open to the restaurant, Oliver caught a flash of silver.

He had a gun.


	3. Part 3

**Author notes:** Thanks for the interest and the favorite adds, Muurbloempje, milen748. midnightquiver, the confrontation between the two men will come up in the next part. :) And hopeful it is as exciting as you're anticipating. liliaeth, thank you for forwarding your thoughts. I hope you continue to enjoy the read. ChamberlinofMusic, thank you for checking this out. Hope you like where it goes.

- 8 -

**Two days prior**

Between naps in the car and the solid eight hours she slept the first night, Chloe felt like she'd caught up on more sleep than she had in a year. She also got the impression that while she enjoyed the taste of coffee now, she might have been a coffee addict before and having been dry for however long her memory had been hazy, the stuff hit her veins like Red Bull or Prozac. One cup yesterday and it was now nearing 3 a.m. and she still couldn't switch off her brain.

Dean was snoring lightly, his face half buried in his pillow, one of his well-muscled legs half sticking out of the bed covers. She snorted and pulled it back over; he mumbled in his sleep, stuck his arm further under the pillow and grumbled before quieting again.

She smiled to herself and went to the extra large duffle bag he always carried in from the car. Why a man needed two bags, one of which she'd never seen him open, her curiosity begged answers.

Glancing over at the bed once more, she noted he was still deeply asleep, so she pulled on the zipper and inched it open. The moonlight filtered in from the thin gossamer curtains enough to help her see in the dark.

Her breath caught when she saw what was inside. Knives, a shotgun, smoke grenades, flash bombs, several guns and rounds enough to wage a guerrilla assault. With shaking hands she picked up one of the shotgun rounds. Dean grunted and rolled over in his sleep. Chloe's grip tightened involuntarily as she jumped back from the bag. The top of the shell came open and small grounds spilled onto the floor. Chloe frowned. She wasn't smelling gunpowder. In fact she couldn't smell anything at all. Licking her finger, she dipped it into the casing and put the powder to her lips. She scrunched her face preparing for a biting sensation when the stuff hit her tongue or a strong odor reached her nose, but she frowned in surprise when she tasted salt. Rock salt from the extra grainy texture she felt rolling over her tongue.

Rock salt shotgun pellets? That was just plain weird. Dean didn't strike her as crazy but then she also hadn't expected to find a bag full of weapons. He didn't scream axe murderer, but why would someone be carrying around an arsenal like this? If you shot someone a couple of times you might kill them eventually, but she only imagined taking a rock salt hit to be extremely painful, not exactly an effective conventional weapon. She was about to write it off as some quirk about him she didn't really want to understand when her fingers brushed something that felt like a book as she was zipping up the bag. Picking it up instinctively, she took it over closer to the window and began to read.

Both captivated and disbelieving, she didn't put it down until she'd read every single page and post-it. Closing the journal, she quietly walked back over and put the book back in the bag. Spying a small feathery charm in one corner of the duffle, she took it out and slipped it over her head, and under her t-shirt. While she couldn't bring herself to believe half of what she read, she'd rather play it safe.

The next morning she didn't mention anything to Dean, but while he was in the shower, she called the number that proved the most frequently dialed on his phone: Lisa.

_"Dean, you can't keep calling me,"_ said the resigned, soft voice.

"Sorry, this isn't Dean," Chloe whispered. "I'm just borrowing his phone, and I know this will sound crazy but I just need to know I'm not crazy, that he's not crazy... that I'm not crazy for trusting him," she babbled quickly.

There was a pause on the line before the woman, Lisa, she was assuming let out a sigh. _"He's on a job, isn't he? Look, I don't know what to tell you, or what he's told you, but Dean's a good guy. If people are after you, or things, whatever, he can help keep you safe."_

Chloe glanced at the closed bathroom door."I don't know if it means much, but he talks about you."

Lisa laughed tiredly, disbelief in her voice. _"I'm sure."_

Chloe shook her head. "He doesn't know he's doing it. He talks in his sleep. He drives all day so he crashes out pretty hard sometimes. I don't think he knows he talks in his sleep."

_"What's your name?"_ Lisa asked, her voice curious._ "How did you meet Dean?"_

Chloe chewed on her bottom lip. She was pretty sure Lisa was Dean's girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend. And telling her the truth might mean she stayed an ex permanently. Something she knew deep down that Dean didn't want, so she lied. "He was passing through Jetmore. These guys were after me. I still don't know what they wanted. He's trying to help me get back home."

Lisa let out another short breath._ "I'm glad he was there to help."_

"But you really wish he wasn't," Chloe added quietly. "You wish he'd give it up, right? Helping people?"

_"No,"_ Lisa argued. _"That's not... you must think I'm this horribly selfish person."_

"No," Chloe said, smiling, "you sound human. And if that book of his is true then it means you care a lot that you'd want him to stay away from all that."

_"It's true, and even when I think I've got a handle on it, something else will come up and I'm back to being terrified that I'll never be able to fully accept it and support him when he has to deal with everything he's going through. I don't even know why I'm telling you all this, I don't even know you and..."_

"Sounds like we both don't have people to talk to about what we're really feeling. I feel like I've been running and hiding for a long time and I don't know what it is, but it scares me. Guys like Dean, I guess it means we can feel a little safer sleeping at night and for that I'm grateful. It doesn't make it any easier for the ones waiting for them to come home safe though."

Lisa sniffled and Chloe knew that was exactly what she was feeling. _"I can barely hold it together when he's here. The phone, it's worse because I can't see him and... I told him he's got to deal with his issues, but I can't help wishing he'd just come back. It wasn't ever perfect, but it was as close to perfect I ever thought I'd have...so..."_

"I understand." _I think I know better than I remember right now, just that pang in my chest, her words, her voice, they just ring true to me. Something that resonates as a feeling I've had before,_ Chloe mused inwardly. She heard the lock on the door click open and she froze. "I gotta go, he's coming back. Thank you for talking to me."

She hastily hit end before Lisa could even reply and put his phone back on the table. She had a human piece to this mystery and it made her feel safer with him. Though she never had any doubt that he would never have hurt her, knowing that he had someone like Lisa who not only loved him but was waiting for him softened his gruff, quiet edges and made him appear more normal after all the horrors she'd read were a frequent fixture in his life.

She fingered the necklace lightly under her shirt, and when he smiled at her she smiled back.

"Bathroom's all yours. Breakfast in twenty so don't soak or anything."

.


	4. Part 4

**Author notes:** Thanks for the interest and the favorite add, Kalysn748. ChamberlinofMusic, I wasn't a fan of Lisa at first but she really grew on me Season 6. TessFan, where this picks up I couldn't go full Chlean, but if you're looking for epic Chlean, check out Hollow Men by Isabel5.

- 8 -

**Present day**

Chloe sat down to order while Dean went to the bathroom to freshen up. She didn't blame him; after ten hours straight driving, it was a wonder he could walk without a limp. She'd been able to take a bathroom break while they'd stopped for gas about eighty-miles back. Chloe looked at the menu and for the hundredth time since he'd rescued her, she felt guilty that she had no way of contributing to the costs that were stacking up. She felt like a kid again, waiting for her Dad so they could order, not sure how much he could afford. She closed the menu and heaved a deep breath.

"What's the matter, sweetheart, Deano not taking care of you?"

Chloe startled. There was a man, an Englishman with a receding hairline and an entirely too confident demeanor sitting next to her when not even a second ago that spot had been vacant. Reaching into her hoodie pocket, she muttered softly, "Christo."

She almost didn't want to look. His eyes flooded red and he grinned. "Yes, sweetheart, I'm a demon."

"A crossroads demon," Chloe said calmly, a lot more calmly than she actually felt. Where was Dean, what was taking him so long? This was his thing, why wasn't he swooping in with a rescue already?

"Not just a demon, darling, the king of hell, since ol' Lucifer's back in the pit, and Prince Charming and Sammy with their little war trying to protect humanity knocked off the rest of the competition for me. Where is Dean, by the way? Last word said he was with you, pretty innocent little thing. An outsider. For an outsider you're not nearly as wilting and naive as I thought you'd be," he said, nodding at her chest.

Chloe fought the urge to touch the spot where her anti-possession charm hung over her heart. "What do you want?"

Crowley smiled. "What everyone wants, my dear. Everything." He grabbed her arm.

"Hands off!" a deep voice bellowed.

"Oh for the love of... you can't be serious, Shamrock! Really?" He snorted and glared at the man in green aiming a crossbow at his chest.

"I'm a good shot, don't try your luck."

Oliver tried not to flinch at the man's use of Flagg's nickname for him. So they'd tracked him to Star City and now they'd found Chloe again. Or had they been following Chloe hoping that she'd lead them to the rest of the team? And what on earth was taking that guy so long in the bathroom? By now the other restaurant patrons had made for the exits. The staff were cowering in the kitchen and behind the serving counter.

"Dude, put that away before you hurt someone," Dean said from where he stood outside the doors to the restrooms. "And you, don't call the cops. They're not gonna help."

Crowley rolled his eyes and with a wave of his hand sent the phones in the building sparking, the duty manager dropping the one he was holding with a shriek of surprise. "Now do you get who's in charge here, Mr. Billionaire Extraordinaire?"

Oliver froze and Crowley stood, pulling Chloe along with him.

"Yes, that's right. I know who you are. Who you really are, and if you don't back off right now, I'll bleed this pretty little thing just for the fun of it. I get the Cliff Notes of everything that goes on up here and down there. Ears to the ground, interesting all the little gems that you learn if you're listening. Chloe Sullivan, Watchtower, was meteor infected, a trouble magnet, too curious for her own good, the go-to girl for heroes. All kinds of heroes, it seems. She could be so useful to me."

Dean swallowed. Crowley knew all about her. For all he knew the demon had led him right to her. He'd let them get close, so he'd have another tool to use against him. Leverage for persuasion.

"We're doing what you want. Sam and I, we're working on it," Dean growled impatiently.

"Not from where I'm standing. Where is Sam, by the way?"

An arrow whizzed through the air and lodged in Crowley's chest.

Chloe looked, horrified, between the man in green and the demon. He yanked the arrow out and twisted her arm painfully. "You shouldn't have done that," he said, his voice dripping venom. He threw out his hand and Oliver went sailing through the restaurant window, crashing into the hood and windshield of a parked car, glass showering down around him. He groaned in pain and curled slightly before his body went slack.

"No," Chloe whispered bitterly, hot tears burning in her eyes. It was such a stupid thing to do, didn't he see that the man had supernatural ability, didn't he realized that it was safer to ask more questions, watch a while longer, than to pull a move like that? He'd obviously been waiting for a distraction, hoping to take him down quickly.

"I can find you anywhere, any time-hex bag, angel carvings, demon-proof wards or not. So quit stalling and find me my Firsts." He threw Chloe at Dean and Dean caught her. When they looked up, Crowley was gone.

"Are you all right?" Dean said, checking her over worriedly. "I'm really sorry you got dragged into this."

Chloe sniffled and wiped her nose. "Story of my life, at least it feels that way. Not the first time I've been held hostage."

"You remember?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Chloe Sullivan, the bit about attracting heroes. Some of it is coming back to me. The guy in the parking lot. We have to help him."

"You know him?"

Chloe shook her head. "I'm not sure, but I know he knows me."

..

Chloe wrung her hands together and waited while Dean had gone back to the car for the bags and his first aid kit from the trunk. They'd managed to flee the restaurant with the green archer in tow just as the sounds of police sirens filtered through the windows to the interior of the Impala.

He was still unconscious and she wondered how she was possibly going to check all his wounds without exposing his identity. It was obvious that he was going for anonymous with the voice distorter, the dark wraparound shades and the hood. She trusted that Dean could keep a secret but she didn't want to betray this man who had foolishly tried to save her life.

Without removing his hood, she stuck her hands inside and felt the back of his head. When she couldn't feel any bumps or wet spots, she moved down his body and started on his arms and hands where there were obvious wounds.

When she was done he looked like a mummy. She always found it curious watching movies in which an amnesiac person just instinctively knew how to do certain out-of-the-ordinary things, like fight, or use a computer, or do first aid, but couldn't remember their own name. She had to remind herself it wasn't complete memory loss, it was selective memory loss. Something about her life had caused her to forget her identity and everything important attached to it, like the players in particular. Like this man for instance. Why did her chest ache when she looked at him and why did her stomach roll with nervous knots every time her fingers brushed his hand? That hadn't happened the first time she'd touched Dean.

Ann had talked to her about what she expected of her the night before Dean had appeared to rescue her. She wasn't having debilitating headaches anymore, her wounds were fully healed and her fever was gone. Ann had been feeding her and caring for her for three weeks. She knew what went on in the place she was living in; it was hard to sleep at night with all the noise. When Chloe had asked if she might clean or wait tables instead as repayment, Ann had snorted.  
_  
"We're not a hotel, honey. The only work the girls do here is flat on their backs, on their knees or ridin' high. Don't worry, I'll make sure the guys I send your way are well-behaved. No kinky stuff. Hey, think of it this way: before you know it, you'll have made enough to be on your way. Wherever it is you wanna go. I took care o' ya, now you need to show a little kindness back."_

She wasn't really the praying type but she thanked whoever was watching out for her that Dean had been the first one to come to her, and that he had taken her out of that place. She made a promise that the next person she came across in need, she'd do everything she could to help them and expect nothing in return. Pay it forward. That's how it was supposed to be; at least she thought so.

It might not have shown on her face, but she'd been terrified. Afraid of him, afraid of what she had to force herself to do, afraid of what might happen if she didn't. Truthfully, he'd been her angel that night.

"How's he doing?" Dean asked gruffly.

He was upset, he felt guilty and responsible, and now he had two extra pieces of collateral in his crazy drama. Chloe understood.

"I think he'll live. We can't exactly drop him off at the nearest emergency room. And we won't know if he's got a concussion or any broken bones till he comes around. Although I couldn't feel anything..."

"Owww," Oliver groaned, putting the heel of his hand to his face.

Chloe reached out to steady him when he tried to sit up. "Easy."

"Chloe," he exclaimed in shock.

Before she knew it was coming, he grabbed her, crushing her to his chest, laying one on her like his life breath was going to come from her lips. At first she was incensed at being assaulted but as his mouth slanted over hers, her posture melted and his tongue slipped past her lips.

She gasped, then moaned at the sensation warming her body from the inside out. She trailed her hands up his back and held him back.

Someone coughed behind them, loudly.

Oliver broke away sharply and Chloe bounced slightly on the bed as he rose abruptly. "You!" he growled. "Who are you, and what did you do to Chloe?"

Chloe put her hand to her lips. She could still taste him; he'd had a beef burger, there was a faint tinge still there, but mostly she tasted mint. She licked her lips unconsciously and closed her eyes. In her mind's eye she remembered the first time he'd kissed her. It wasn't as intense, but it was just as passionate. A kiss that was meant to show her exactly what he wanted from her, and how desirable she was to him.

"Dean didn't do anything but save me," she said quietly, standing and moving closer to take his hand.

He turned back to look at her, and faintly through the tinted glasses, she could see the shape of his eyes, the surprise in them. "He... he saved you?"

"My memory's been a bit sketchy, but it's slowly coming back. I know you, at least I think I do. You've kissed me before," she added shyly, a blush covering her cheeks.

Dean chuckled. Oliver bristled at the other man's enjoyment at his expense. "Something funny?"

"No, I was just remembering that Crowley said she had a thing for heroes... I didn't think it was so literal."

This time Chloe glared at him. "You're one to talk, Casanova. It's what you get when you make rescuing your job. The girl's gonna fall in love with you."

Dean shut up and averted his gaze.

Oliver looked between them, his jaw tightening. He wondered if there was more to their relationship than he first realized. Chloe didn't really remember him, or remember them, what they had together, but it was obvious she trusted Dean, felt comfortable with him.

Chloe could feel his tension and squeezed his hand. "You wouldn't happen to know where I live? Have things of mine I could look at, maybe jog a few more memories?" she asked softly.

"I can have them sent over. You used to live in Metropolis, but when you disappeared your cousin, Lois, she put it all away for you, until you came back. She always believed you would."

Dean smiled, satisfied the guy was on the up-and-up when he heard the name Lois. Lo could be Lois, the name he remembered Chloe had whispered while she slept.

"I found her in Jetmore. Bit of a way from Metropolis," Dean said skeptically.

Chloe nodded and chewed her bottom lip. "I know I told you I had a fever when Ann found me, but I didn't go into detail about what I looked like," she said. "And I won't, because I have a feeling that it'll just start a fire that I don't have the energy to put out, but let's just say that I'm pretty sure I'd been walking for awhile."

One look at Ollie told her that he had a temper on him, although he was doing his best to control it right now. Telling him that her feet had been bleeding, her body feeling bruised, her clothes torn and covered in dirt, drenched from the rain, wouldn't go over well. He'd want to search for someone to blame for whatever had happened to her. And he'd have to start with Ann. As much as she didn't like the woman, she wouldn't wish Ollie or Dean's wrath on Ann, when she was pretty sure her amnesia or the way she'd found her had nothing to do with the small -town madam.

"I promised you I'd help you find answers. I think I've done my part," Dean said in a resigned voice. "Not to sound like I'm kicking you out or anything, but you know in my line of work, well, I only attract all kinds of trouble, and I don't want you caught in the cross-hairs again."

Chloe nodded and reached into her hoodie. "I kinda borrowed this," she said, handing him a knife.

Oliver's eyes widened behind his glasses at the size of the hunting knife.

Dean chuckled. "Knew you were packing something. Keep it. It's good against spirits but won't do you much good against a demon. We gotta special kinda knife for that."

Chloe nodded. "I know, I read your journal. Sorry, I'm beginning to think snooping might be a character flaw of mine."

Dean shook his head. "Don't be sorry, I'm glad you did. Knowledge is your best weapon against these guys. You kept your head, probably saved your life. Crowley's a bitch, but he's actually one that doesn't kill humans for fun, so at least he's played fair so far. Which is a change from his past MO. But you know, keep your enemies close and all that. Oh, and keep the charm," he said with a grin, having immediately discovered she'd taken it when he'd done an equipment check the next morning, "but you might want to consider something more permanent now that you know you're on his radar."

Chloe automatically pulled the necklace from under her shirt. "Permanent?"

Dean pulled his shirt down to one side and showed her his tattoo.

"Oh. And ouch," Chloe said, wrinkling her nose.

"What's it for and does it work?" Oliver asked.

"Anti-possession symbol. And it works. No one's going to be riding this body but me."

Chloe shuddered. "I guess that means I'm getting one. I think I hate needles."

Oliver squeezed her hand. "We'll do it together."

Dean snickered again and fought the urge to roll his eyes, looking anywhere but at the obviously lovestruck pair. He was taken by surprise when a soft warm body landed on his chest and her arms wrapped around his neck.

Oliver felt his throat close. It had been years since he'd seen one of Chloe's spontaneous hugs, and it saddened him that she'd had to go through hell to come back to her innocence. Who knew how long it would last before the nightmare began again.

"Thanks Dean, for everything. And by the way, Lisa misses you too."

She kissed his cheek and bounced out the door, Oliver following more slowly behind. He clapped Dean's shoulder lightly and pushed a card into his hand.

"If you ever find yourself in a jam, give the number a call. We owe you, more than you'll ever know."**  
**

.


	5. Part 5

**Author notes:** Thanks for the interest and the favorite add, Tabbi Sullivan and Idril-Lune. TessFan, I'm glad you're still enjoying this. midnightquiver, this story isn't very long, but I promise that's not the last you'll hear of Dean.

- 8 -

Oliver limped slightly when they'd made it a short distance down the street. "We need to stop for a second," he said with a grimace.

"You are badly hurt, aren't you?" she said fearfully.

Oliver shook his head. "It's okay, I'll get myself checked out. I'm just so glad I found you." He pulled her to him and hugged her again tightly, afraid to let go. He didn't want to have to make the call, but he knew he should. Lois was missing her just as much as he was. It was her stubbornness that had given him hope, encouraged him not to give up believing that she was alive, that she was out there somewhere. That she would find a way back to him. He reluctantly let her go and let his hands slid to her wrists, where his fingers brushed something metallic.

"This is... you're wearing your bracelet?" he exclaimed in surprise. "When we didn't find it in your things, I thought you took it back. You never wore it before," he said with a sad smile.

Chloe glanced at the bracelet, a frown marring her forehead as a memory flashed in her mind's eye.

_Oliver tucked her hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek. "Thanks for putting up with me, Sidekick. I'm a rotten patient. Sorry if I drove you a little crazy. I know Emil was just about ready to throw in the towel."_

Chloe grinned at him indulgently. "Oh, I came pretty close. But I think I've figured it out, that I can't seem to resist that smile or those big brown eyes of yours. So while when Emil says don't work out, don't over-stretch and stop scratching, and you bullheadedly do the complete opposite, you have only yourself to blame when that gorgeous chest of yours ends up scarred and gnarly."

Oliver frowned and hugged her to him when she tried to retreat after making her snarky remark. "I think I have half a mind not to give you your thank-you gift after that smartass comment."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Ollie, not with the gifts again. You didn't need to get me anything."

"But I wanted to. I know you're not ready to discuss what we really are yet, but I know you know we're exclusive, and I need you to know how important you are to me." He pulled a slim blue box from the back pocket of his jeans and watched her eyes widen as she chewed her bottom lip. It wasn't all that different from the McDougal's gift box, just a little longer.

"It's not another spoon, is it?" she said, glancing at him with a teasing lift to her eyes. It wasn't till she pulled back the ribbon and saw the Tiffany & Co. logo on the lid that she gasped and pushed the box back to his chest. "No."

"What? Chloe, you can't say no just because you think it's too much. You don't even know what it is," Oliver pointed out, frustrated. He grabbed her arm when she seemed determined to ignore this and busy herself with work. He pulled her over to the couch so that she was forced to stop moving and face him. He lifted the lid and showed her the contents.

Chloe sucked in a breath and held it while she looked at the delicate bracelet inside. It wasn't flashy, diamond encrusted or anything that would scream, 'I'm seeing a billionaire'. It was a generic-looking slender chain with two tiny charms, something that was really only significant to the giver and the wearer. She took the box with slightly unsteady hands and traced her finger over the small spoon before she saw the bow and arrow with the heart on the end of it. "Cupid, really?" she said with a smirk.

Oliver shrugged. "It was all they had. I wanted an archer but if I'd gotten one made I think you really would have thrown it back in my face," he said a little miserably. "You're not going to wear it, are you?"

Chloe sighed softly and squeezed his hand. "Ollie, I don't want us to be complicated. We're fine as we are. You keep giving me things, Lois is going to notice and start getting all excited planning double dates, weddings and babies." She watched his eyes start at that and chuckled. "See, neither of us is looking for that. Our lives are so full we barely have time for what we do have. I care about you, a lot. I think you know me better than anyone else. This is... it's really sweet, but you don't have to do that. I thought we agreed that you never make me feel like I'm unappreciated or undesirable," she added with a saucy smile, squeezing his knee and kissing the pulse point on his neck.

"You're not gonna make me feel better doing that, you know. Trying to distract me. That's the second time you've rejected a gift from me and..." The words died on his tongue as her hand travelled higher up his thigh and she began gently biting and pulling at his earlobe. It got him every time.

He pushed her back against the curved couch and the box slid to the floor forgotten as she laughed while he kissed her throat and made short work of opening her shirt.  
  
Chloe remembered looking at the bracelet fondly before tucking it away in the bottom of her underwear drawer where Lois never looked. She couldn't wear it, but she couldn't bring herself to take it back either.

"Before I left, I guess I must have changed my mind," she said softly.

Oliver crushed her to his chest and felt his heart swell. She'd carried a piece of them with her. A piece of him. Tears blurred his eyes and he kissed her forehead before blinking back the moisture and clearing his throat gruffly. "Well, I guess I better tell the troops you're back. Lois will kill me if she doesn't get to see you ASAP. Just don't freak out if some guy just pops up out of nowhere again, okay? I swear he's a friend, not a demon, or whatever that guy was. You might call him a speed demon, though," Oliver added with a smirk.

Pulling out his cell, Oliver dialled. He'd barely started saying her name when there was a gust and two strong arms were pulling her up off the ground and spinning her wildly.

"You're back! I knew you'd be back. Now where can we find them so we can give them all a good ass whoopin' for stealin' our favorite mamacita? And for turning this guy into a cave man. An insufferable, emo, grouchy, cranky..."

"Bart," Oliver cut in loudly. "Take it easy, Chloe has partial memory loss. She might not remember..."

"Bart Allen?" Chloe said eyeing him speculatively. "You gave me a tulip, I think. That was really sweet."

Bart impulsively hugged her again and punched Oliver's arm. Oliver winced and glared at him, an expression Bart missed as it was hidden behind Oliver's shades.

"She remembers me. Ready to go for a ride, senorita?"

"Just take her to my penthouse and then pick up Lois, Bart. She's going to want to see her cousin. And maybe Boy Scout can make himself useful and bring back a few of her things too-scrapbooks, photos, her computer..."

"Done," Bart said with a salute and they disappeared.

Oliver sighed and trudged his way along, wishing he had even an ounce of Bart's super-speed right now so he could make it back to where he'd parked his bike in a flash, instead of walking what he knew would be a good half hour, trying not to feel hurt all the while that she'd remembered Bart's name but not his.

By the time Oliver's weary form appeared in the open elevator, Chloe was almost beside herself. Everyone firing questions at her, hugging her and showing her things hoping to jog memories was just too much and was beginning to overwhelm her.

Oliver took one look at his living room-the small blonde nervously wringing her hands on his large sofa, looking even tinier than usual, dwarfed further by Clark looming over her, Lois squashed up next to her, Bart hovering and darting back and forth from the kitchen to the back of the couch, with Victor pacing restlessly by the window-and he sighed.

"Okay, let her breathe, people. I think she's had enough of Memory Lane for one night. And yes, Lois, I'll have Emil give her a full checkup in the morning. I think the best thing for her right now is sleep."

"In her own bed, Oliver," Clark said pointedly, folding his arms over his chest.

Oliver stiffened, shocked that Clark even dared to insinuate that he would try anything while Chloe still didn't know who and what she knew. "Get out!" he growled dangerously, staring daggers at the dark-haired man.

Lois slapped Clark's arm and glared at him before hugging Chloe and kissing her temple. "I'm glad you're safe, cuz. I'll see you first thing, okay?" she said warmly. The look she turned on Clark could wither small plants. "You. Home. Now!"

Bart pouted but set his empty soda can down and saluted Oliver. "I'll be on speed dial if you need me, Bossman. Glad to have you back, 'Licious."

Victor stopped pacing and nodded his farewell. "I'll be in the den working up leads on where she remembers waking up."

Oliver grabbed his arm as he passed. "Don't. We know who had her, and we know enough of what happened. We need to let it go."

"You're just gonna let them get away with..."

"They're working for Checkmate, the government. There's nothing we can do but hope to stay under their radar. Going after them will only draw more heat. The best thing we can do for Chloe right now is just be there for her."

Victor nodded solemnly and left for the guest room. Oliver ran his hand tiredly through his hair. He felt Chloe watching him as he activated the controls for the Arrow Room hidden behind the fireplace.

He took off his vest and put the glasses on the desk by the computer. He felt her behind him and turned slowly.

"Clark called you Oliver," she said quietly. "But I look at you and hear myself calling you Ollie. Is that what you prefer? Can I call you Ollie?" At his slack-jawed nod, she smiled softly. "I remember when you gave it to me and I think I remember why you gave it to me. I have this picture of you in my mind. You were in a hospital bed and you had bandages all over your body. I... I remember feeling afraid you wouldn't wake up. I'm so glad you did. You're not very good at taking care of yourself," she said softly. She put her hands lightly on his chest, trying to recall the injury he'd suffered that he'd been hurt so badly.

Oliver swallowed tightly, stilling the exploration of her hands with his. The sensations she was evoking were all wrong for what he'd planned to do with her. He'd swore to himself he'd take things slow, give her time to remember them on her own. He wouldn't push, he'd be patient. He was grateful enough that he had her back, safe, even if her memory of him was spotty at best. He closed his hands around hers and squeezed them lightly. "Chloe, I care about you more than anything else. Before, when I kissed you, I shouldn't have known something wasn't right and I don't want you to think that..."

She leaned up on her toes and kissed him. When she pulled back he was breathing hard and shaking a little, his eyes misty and his grip on her tighter than before, like he was afraid she might disappear from his arms.

"Ollie, I don't need all my memories to know what kind of man you are, how you make me feel. There's one thing that stands out in my mind, and has been nagging at me for awhile, clear as day. I think I spent a lot of time hiding; hiding from myself, from the truth about what's right in front of me, too afraid to take a chance of being hurt again. I don't even remember why I spent so much time hiding, and I don't think I ever want to remember. I know how I feel about you, when I looked at you, when you hold me. I think I'm in love with you. I think I have been for a long time, I was just too afraid to let myself see it before."

"Chloe." He whispered her name like a prayer, and kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose before taking her lips in a gentle caress, and picking her up. She hooked her legs over his hips and wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with passionate fervor. His legs buckled and he stumbled back into the desk.

They broke apart reluctantly. Leaning in close, Oliver ran the tip of his nose along the shell of her ear and the pulse point in her neck, breathing in her scent, trying to reassure himself she was real. He wanted to stay like this with her surrounding him forever, but he also couldn't ignore the twitching aching muscles in his back that had taken a beating only a couple hours ago.

"I hate to say it, but I need to put you down so I can take a cold shower and put some anti-inflammatory gel on my back."

Chloe pouted and slid down him reluctantly, smiling happily when he didn't completely let her go, keeping his arms looped around her waist. "I could do that for you, if you like."

"Take a shower?" he grinned cheekily.

Chloe blushed. "No, put the gel on for you. But a shower sounds nice, if you don't mind sharing."

Oliver kissed her forehead. "Always said I'd be more than happy to be a shower buddy with you, Professor. All you had to do was ask," he said with a wink.

Leading the way to his room, he flicked on the lights in his en-suite and Chloe tried not to feel intimidated by the wall-to-wall mirrors, limestone tiles and huge shower with built-in water feature. Crowley had called him a billionaire; from the looks of things he wasn't kidding.

Oliver undressed her slowly, peppering kisses over every inch of skin he exposed, till she was clinging to his shoulders and his hair as he trailed down her body. He shed his black muscle shirt and leather pants and turned on the water. It was cold and biting at first but soon she didn't feel it, as he lathered up his hands and ran them over her body. The heat he woke inside her built to an inferno till she was moaning and biting her lip, shamelessly hanging off him while his fingers stroked and probed between her legs. Crying and clenching around his digits, she blinked up at him through a daze of euphoria and her heart skipped a beat at the focus and look of tenderness in his eyes. She cupped his cheek and kissed him softly, loving how well their lips moved together, how he tasted and how warm he was, even with the chilly water rushing over them.

He finished scrubbing them both down quickly and shut off the water. Wrapping her in a big fluffy, soft, cherry-colored towel, he dried himself off before scooping her up and depositing her on the bed.

He pulled on a pair of boxers for himself, and offered her one of his Berkeley t-shirts. "You've never stayed in Star City with me before, but you did keep a few of your things in my penthouse in Metropolis. I'm sure Lois will bring your clothes in the morning."

Chloe took the t-shirt and pulled it over her head, smiling at him. "This is fine. I've been alternating between the same two outfits for the past few days, at this point anything actually clean feels good."

Oliver pulled up the covers and slid in next to her after she crawled in. Chloe blushed as he pulled her close and her bare legs brushed up against his. He felt her stiffen and rubbed her arm, looking into her face.

"I know I just got pissed at Clark because he implied I wouldn't let you sleep alone, but I can't. I mean, nothing's going to happen tonight, Chloe. I'm just so relieved to have you here that I don't want to let you go, even if it's just across the hall, but if you're not comfortable, I can sleep on the day bed over there..."

Chloe's eyes widened. "Don't you dare. I'm not kicking you out of your own bed. It's just... I'm being silly. I just... I don't know if I've ever slept naked before."

"But you're wearing... oh," he smiled cheekily when he realized that she didn't have any clean underwear. He curled an arm around her waist and held her against his body, making sure that the shirt couldn't inch up any further. "My hands are staying right here, I swear."

Chloe nuzzled the soft skin under his chin and eyed him teasingly. "I think those wandering hands did the dirty already tonight. You can hardly get all gentlemanly on me now."

Oliver chuckled and kissed her forehead. "I guess not, but I do have to look your cousin in the eye tomorrow and when she asks if I've been taking care of you, I don't want to lie."

Chloe kissed his throat, and then leaned up and kissed his lips while she ran a hand over his naked chest to the waistband of his shorts, cupping him lightly over the silk fabric. He was already thick and hard under there. "How is this taking care of me?"

Oliver swallowed tightly. "Good question." He gently pushed her back into the mattress and leaned over her. "Your wish is my command, Angel," he said, finding that the name Dean had called her was very appropriate. She was his light, his compass, his gravity, and he thanked God that he had her back in his arms. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't ever disappear on me again."

.


	6. Part 6

**Part 6**

J'onn visited the next day and promised to help her process her slowly returning memories, helping to put them in order and understand their context. Emil said she was a picture of health aside from the partial amnesia and was very happy to welcome her back, admitting that out of the two Sullivan-Lane cousins, she was definitely the less frightening and easier one to work with.

Aside from her day visit to Metropolis to check in with Emil and Watchtower, Chloe stayed with Oliver in Star City. She spent most of her time going over the files that Victor had restored from backup archives that she'd sent to him before her reboot of Watchtower, sans all things related to her. Seemed while she was determined to erase her existence from the digital world, she couldn't bring herself to completely obliterate a life journey and identity entirely. For which she was now immensely grateful.

It was another week before Chloe had almost all the missing pieces in her memory back in place. There were certain events that were still foggy, like the last night Lois had spoken to her before she disappeared, and also exactly how she'd escaped the Suicide Squad and why she'd ended up in Jetmore, but she had a feeling that it was for her own emotional well-being that her brain was deliberately blocking it out, so she wasn't eager to get them back, if ever.

Emil had theorized that taking the cyanide pill to stop the torture at the hands of her captors, even though she'd taken the antidote, coupled with the stresses her mind had gone through using Dr. Fate's helmet, had most likely been the cause of her memory loss. He said considering that he had no clear time frame of how long she might have suffered under the effects of the cyanide before the antidote could neutralize the poison, coupled with the fact that she'd had hypothermia, she might never fully recover some of her lost memories.

Oliver hadn't broached the subject, but she was living with him and he seemed in no great hurry to change that status. Clark and Bart had brought all of her things from Smallville and the city loft apartment, and strangely she wasn't really upset about Tess running comms there now. Tess was qualified, and her experience with Checkmate was extremely helpful. Of course she still had a lot of proving to do before Chloe could say she trusted her, but she seemed to genuinely want to be a part of the team, to help them. And who was she to judge that a near-death experience couldn't change one's perspective? It certainly had for her. Which was why, instead of running and hiding when she found a small black box in Oliver's desk, she put it back where she'd found it, knowing that if and when he asked her, she already had her answer.

There wasn't another man in the world she could imagine sharing her life with than him.

Thinking about why he was so right for her turned her thoughts to the man who'd given her a fresh start. A rugged, dark blond fallen angel who'd rescued her from a fate she didn't dare imagine. He cared so much for others, making sacrifice after sacrifice, much like other heroes in her life; but unlike them, had no one really there to hold him up. He'd had Sam before. Those two had had each other's backs. They were more than blood, they were more than partners. They'd both been to heaven, hell and back, and-well, it was obvious to her that unless Dean got Sam, the real Sam back, he wasn't going to be able to make anything real with Lisa. The guilt over not being able to save his little brother was slowly chipping away at him. There were distinct differences in the stories and journal entries she'd found in that worn leatherbound book. The first two-thirds had been John's, Dean's father, the pages well worn and slightly faded and the latter she was sure had been Dean's weary scrawl. Dean hadn't initially struck her as the journal-keeping type, but she guessed that after a while, having no real outlet, one could go crazy leading the life he did without offloading his troubles somewhere.

There hadn't been many entries, but what she had read really made her bleed for him.

It had to be ten times worse to look Sam in the face and realize that this man he was seeing was just an empty shell and couldn't care less about Dean or anyone else. Some of the entries hadn't made sense until she'd put them together with snippets of conversations he'd had with his brother when he must have assumed she'd been sleeping.

As her memories returned, so did the way she was able to make connections and problem solve any hurdle put in front of her. Which was why she was now dialling a number from memory and waiting patiently for it to pick up. They'd told him already that they were seriously indebted to him. She hoped he'd be open to her repaying a favor.

_"Hello?"_

"Dean? It's Chloe... well, Angel, if that doesn't ring any bells. We met a couple months back and.."

_"Yeah, I remember,"_ he said with a smile in his voice. _"What can I do for you? Man in tights is treating you right, I hope."_

Chloe grinned. "Oh, he doesn't need any encouraging in that department, my problem is getting him to ease up on the over-pampering. I actually wanted to ask you something, but before I do, can we do this by video? I'm kind of used to seeing faces and, I don't know, talking to a voice print on a screen feels weird."

_"Okay,"_ he chuckled._ "I'm gonna hang up now."_

She called him back and he took the video call. "So," she said smiling. "I see you got the boy band back together?"

Dean snorted and shrugged, his face tensing a little._ "Can you talk or do you need me to..."_ He made a walking motion while looking over his shoulder at Sam who seemed engrossed in something on his laptop.

Chloe nodded. "It might be a good idea."

The background started moving and all she could see was the floor for a minute before carpet changed to gravel and a door shut. Then she saw Dean's pensive face again. _"Okay, what's up?"_

"I hope you don't shut me down right off, considering I read about your history with mystics..."

_"Okay, hold up. I don't think I wanna know where this is going."_

"It's about Sam," Chloe slotted in quickly. "I know Crowley was holding something over you, and from the bits I overheard when you were talking to Sam... well I kind of figured it out. Sam's missing his soul, right?"

Dean ran a hand over his face and rubbed his jaw before he looked at her again. _"About the snooping, you weren't kidding,"_ he sighed, shaking his head. _"We're not making a lot of headway there. That's what's wrong with living with a guy who thinks a soul is actually going to give him problems, instead of solving monumental ones. Like giving him a moral compass, for starters."_ He sighed heavily again and for a minute, when he let the phone drop, all Chloe could see was his jeans.

"As much as I enjoy the view," she said snarkily, "just hear me out before you totally can the idea. This mystic friend of mine, her father was listed in your dad's contacts. His name was Johnny Z. It's actually Giovanni "John" Zatara."

_"We went through all Dad's contacts. They're all dead."_

"Yes, John Zatara is, but his daughter isn't. She's her father's daughter and she's one of the good guys. If anyone has the mojo and the know-how to get Sam's soul back to where it belongs, she does."

Dean looked down at her skeptically. _"And she's gonna do this for us, just out of the goodness of her heart, no strings attached?"_

Chloe snorted, and tried not to feel put out by the fact that from this angle it looked like he was about to walk over her. He'd obviously never used the video function very much. "She owes me a few favors, and once I tell her what you did for me, she won't even blink over it."

_"If I agree to meet her, and I get any hinky feelings or weird vibes and I decide to walk, there's no hard feelings?"_

"Completely your call," Chloe said, nodding.

Dean gave her a resigned look._ "Okay, fine. We're in Kentucky. Do I call her or..."_

"Oh, she'll come to you."

_"Why do I get the feeling you already talked to her first?"_

Chloe tried and failed not to look guilty when he kept looking at her with tired, you-can't-lie-to me arched eyebrow. "I just want to help."

Dean snorted._ "Yeah that's what they all say."_ He leaned one hand on the hood of the Impala, smiling slowly. _"It's good to see you though. And you were right. I called Lisa. We've been talking."_

Chloe grinned. "Glad to hear it." She glanced at a screen behind her that was flashing and then back at Dean. "Zee says she'll meet you at the diner across the street in ten minutes."

Dean grimaced. _"Not feeling good about this."_

"Oh don't be like that," Chloe mock-scolded him. "Be nice, and try to keep the prejudice to a minimum. Although once you meet her, I'll probably have to warn her to bring a bat next time."

Dean chuckled. _"Smokin' hot, is she?"_

Chloe rolled her eyes. "I'll tell Lisa you said that."

Dean laughed._ "Glad you two think you can gang up on me. Thanks for the call, Chloe."_

"We are serious about the open-ended offer. You need anything, call us."

_"I'll keep that in mind. And Chloe, take care of yourself."_

Chloe gave him a warm smile. "You too, Dean," she said and ended the call.

Zatanna said she'd have to meet Sam and do a reading on him, and there was no guarantee. She said it would depend on what was binding his soul, if she could break the hold and guide it back to his physical body. If she could do it, though, at least Chloe would feel like she'd done something to help Dean in return for the compassion and generosity he'd shown her.

Dean stared at his phone for a while and then put it in his back pocket. Witches made his skin itch and reminded him of Ruby, and the number she'd done on Sam, and how she'd fooled everyone. But he trusted Chloe. He'd known her only a short time but there was something about her-her personality, the way she just instantly chose to see the good in people, to believe in them-that had him wanting to give this mystic a chance. After all, he knew they weren't all psycho, grisly practicing witches. There was Pamela, she'd been a good woman. Maybe this Zatanna would turn out to be a valuable ally too.

As much as he scoffed inwardly at the mental comparison, Castiel, Chloe... some angels you could trust to have your back.

FIN


End file.
